


Sex Happens

by Sivullinen



Category: Nobuta wo Produce
Genre: Fluff, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-19
Updated: 2008-09-19
Packaged: 2017-10-02 00:14:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sivullinen/pseuds/Sivullinen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Akira was sucking Shuuji’s right collarbone and it was totally unacceptable. The bad thing was, somehow him stopping would have been equally unacceptable, so Shuuji lay on the floor and let it happen and gasped when Akira’s fingers worked on the buttons of his shirt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sex Happens

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [lenta_85](http://lenta-85.livejournal.com/) for beta!

_Shit._

Akira was sucking Shuuji’s right collarbone and it was totally unacceptable. The bad thing was, somehow him stopping would have been equally unacceptable, so Shuuji lay on the floor and let it happen and gasped when Akira’s fingers worked on the buttons of his shirt. Akira was muttering something about too bloody many layers of school uniform, but that was just normal Akira talk which Shuuji had learned to ignore a long time ago.

Akira’s fingers brushed Shuuji’s bare chest. Shuuji jerked because _oh my God_ and hit his head on the edge of the bed. What a habit to pick up from a friend.

Akira stood up. Shuuji felt cold because Akira on top of him had been quite warming and looked mutely up at Akira who was pursing his lips at Shuuji.

“Get up,” Akira said in a high-pitched tone. What, Shuuji’s brain said as his hand ran through his hair, what is this. Akira snorted impatiently and hoisted Shuuji up, only to dump him on his bed. Then Akira was on Shuuji again and kissing him and his hands were…

“Stop that,” Shuuji gasped and pushed Akira’s hands away from his lap.

“Shuuuuuji-kun,” Akira pulled back and cocked his head. “Why? You’ll like it, Shuuji-kun.”

Like there was any doubt of that, but that was not the point. “That’s not—“ Shuuji said but abandoned the rest of the sentence in favour of breathing heavily because now his heart _really_ was beating its way through his chest: in a heart-beat Akira had run his hand up Shuuji’s thigh and wiggled the tips of his hands inside Shuuji’s trousers. Shuuji was in shock and in arousal and _Akira couldn’t really mean to_…

“Well?” Akira looked at Shuuji like he should have known how to react to something like that, when he hadn’t exactly planned on doing this when he had woken up that morning (go to school, turn down another girl’s offer to eat lunch, complain to Akira about love and blurt out you’d pick him over any girl which had led to wrong or possibly right conclusions which had lead to this in some way Shuuji couldn’t understand and wouldn’t be able to figure out, not now with his brain in the state it was, yeah that hadn’t really been his plan for today), and had he been about to say something?

And now Akira was already yanking down his trousers and Shuuji hadn’t protested and _what did this all mean?_

“Wait,” Shuuji pleaded and reached to touch Akira arm, his sleeve. “You still have all your clothes on,” he furrowed his brow.

Akira glanced up at Shuuji with raised eyebrows. “You expect me to waste time on something like that, when I have something like that in front of me”, he said in a sing-song voice, and Shuuji felt himself blushing because when he finished his sentence, he was eyeing Shuuji’s, er… lap.

“Yeah,” he said, even though that hadn’t been the intention behind his words, although now it apparently was. He tried to scramble to a sitting position, but Akira on top of his legs was really weighing him down.

“Akira SHOCK,” Akira laughed and leaned down to kiss Shuuji quickly on the lips before yanking his shirt off in a fluid moment. Shuuji found himself quite speechless and mesmerized when Akira sat down to take off his trousers, legs still flung over Shuuji’s. Oddly, he took off his socks the slowest, like those were the pieces of clothing that needed to be treated most carefully or something.

When he was finally clad only in his wooden necklace (and Shuuji’s breathing was quite labored), he just lounged on the sitting position and looked ponderously at Shuuji. He was gorgeous.

“Please,” Shuuji whispered.

“Shuuji wants Akira to do something but doesn’t say what,” Akira said.

Shuuji flushed and muttered again, “Please, Akira.”

And then Akira reached over and ran his hand over Shuuji’s erection.

Shuuji gasped and maybe bucked his hips oh God, and he closed his eyes and turned his head to the side. Akira stroked him and, and, no wonder everyone said it was great, Shuuji thought hazily, desperately. He clasped the sheet in his hands and tried so hard to keep his breathing even because otherwise he would lose control, and probably do something really embarrassing.

“Shuuji wants Akira to do this but then doesn’t even say if he likes it,” Akira murmured, as though to himself, and Shuuji forced himself to turn his head and look Akira in the eye.

“Yes,” Shuuji said. Akira smiled brightly and stroked faster and squeezed and Shuuji came.

When he regained his wits he looked for Akira, who was now sitting cross-legged on the bed and playing something with his fingers which included waving them around like they were dancing dolls, and throwing surreptitious glances at Shuuji.

Shuuji lay still for a moment longer and then pushed himself up. Akira dropped his hands on his lap and looked seriously at Shuuji. Shuuji reached his hand towards Akira’s cock because it was enticing and still hard and this was what he was supposed to do, right?

He was stopped, though, because Akira’s hand shot out like a snake and grabbed his wrist. “This,” he said and waved his hands around demonstratively, only he hadn’t let go of Shuuji’s hand so he waved it around too, “isn’t going to change things, right? We are best friends and Nobuta and that’s not going to change, is it?” He looked honestly worried.

Shuuji couldn’t believe him. “After what we just did”, he said, “you think that _now_ there’s a need to ask that kind of questions.”

Akira nodded miserably. “Because previously it was just me doing stuff and Shuuji could tell himself he was just being nice by not pushing me away but if he too—“

“You think that makes the difference?” Shuuji asked desperately.

Akira opened his mouth but Shuuji didn’t really want to talk about this now; he kissed Akira on the lips and tasted them with his tongue, and then Shuuji was tasting Akira’s teeth and it was all good and well, so Shuuji pushed him back down, only now their heads were in the foot of the bed and Shuuji was on Akira.

“You’re an idiot, Akira,” he whispered before kissing his chest. He couldn’t figure out when Akira found the time to work out because he was hanging out with Shuuji like, all the time, but obviously he did because he knew karate and had this much muscle.

He trailed little kisses on Akira’s chest and licked it and maybe scraped his teeth on it once or twice. He was satisfied to notice that now Akira’s breathing was getting faster until Akira said tensely, “Shuuji, you do that kind of stuff to turn the other guy on, you know,” – a ragged breath – “and in case you didn’t notice, that’s not really needed now!”

Shuuji hummed in return but continued tasting Akira’s skin and sweat, only he had a heading now.

“Shuuji, I swear-“ Akira said and froze, because Shuuji had just licked his dick.

“Never mind,” Akira said lamely and Shuuji wrapped his lips around Akira and it was a bit weird but judging by Akira’s reactions, he was doing alright.

It took seven, maybe ten second for Akira to lose it and come. Shuuji pulled back and spit on the sheet (they needed to be washed now, anyway) before flopping down next to Akira.

They lay silently for a while, staring at the ceiling. Then Akira reached over and turned Shuuji’s head with three fingers so that he was looking straight in his eyes.

“Okay?” Akira said. There was worry and hope and something else in his eyes.

“Okay,” Shuuji said, with all the seriousness there had been in the question, too.

“YO HO,” Akira shrieked, before turning his gaze back to the ceiling. He ran his fingers once through Shuuji’s hair before letting it fall back down on the bed.

Shuuji lay still for three seconds before turning on his stomach so that he was partly on Akira. He flung his hand over Akira’s chest and buried his nose in the crook of Akira’s neck.

Akira’s hair smelled like strawberries. How girly.


End file.
